


Skirt

by heroalba



Series: Kinktober 2019 [6]
Category: Senyuu. (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Boys in Skirts, Crossdressing, Kinktober 2019, M/M, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 16:11:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20978714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heroalba/pseuds/heroalba
Summary: Alba's already fun to tease, but when he's in a skirt it's a lot better.





	Skirt

**Author's Note:**

> i lost insp for this halfway through im so sorry....

“This is  _ embarrassing. _ ”

Alba flinches at that, because it’s what he wants to say. Ros is staring at him incredulously, even though  _ he’s  _ the one who asked for this. Alba nearly turns right around to change out of the thing, his cheeks red with shame, but this is part of what Ros wants. 

Alba takes the ends of the red fabric in his fingers and curtsies, his thighs already trembling. Ros’s face is passive, but Alba knows, can tell the spark of delight in his eyes from a mile away.  _ Sadist. Pervert.  _ As if he has any room to talk. 

“Come here.” Alba obeys before the command is fully given, standing in front of Ros with his hands folded in front of his crotch. He hopes Ros doesn’t notice the erection tenting the front of the pleated skirt, but of course Ros does. There’s a low, appreciative whistle, and Ros’s hands find his thighs just under the lip of the skirt.

“No panties, even? Slut.” The words go straight to Alba’s cock, and Alba bites his lip as those hands trail higher and higher, bunching the skirt up around his thighs until Ros can see. See Alba’s shame, flushed red and harder than he’s ever been in his life and dribbling precum from the tip. Alba looks away, cheeks burning. 

Ros doesn’t touch him, just marvels at him for a second. He lets the skirt fall back into place and grins. Alba swallows, knowing the way Ros’s eyes trail over him is only spelling disaster for him.

Ros pats his own knee, indicating Alba to sit. Alba obeys, shifts uncomfortably, and instantly there’s a hand in his hair and Ros is tugging him in for a kiss, lapping into Alba’s mouth when he gasps. His free hand goes to Alba’s hip, holding him steady.

“I’m not going to touch you at all.” The words are breathed against Alba’s lips and Alba shivers. “I want to see you get off to how slutty you are. Want you to beg for me to touch you, even though you know I won’t.”

Dismay swells and pools in Alba’s chest but his cock twitches, delighted at the challenge. “How do I..?” Ros’s grip tightens slightly on his hip, and he lifts his thigh to help demonstrate. He rocks Alba’s hips forward, grinding him on Ros’s thigh, and Alba moans.

“Go ahead. I know you can.”

_ Don’t say that like it’s encouragement! _

The skirt helps. When Alba moves, the head of his cock rubs into the fabric. It’s uncomfortable almost but Alba’s dealt with far worse, and the friction sends little shocks of pleasure through him. 

He resigns himself to rocking down on Ros’s thigh, his fingers clenching the fabric of Ros’s shirt harder. He can feel Ros’s erection against his own thigh, twitching, and it sends a flush of warmth through him that’s nearly overwhelming.

“Ros, please. Please touch me,” Alba gasps, remembering Ros’s request. His brain is so fogged that it seems almost like a challenge. If he’s good, then Ros  _ has  _ to touch him. “Please, it feels so good but I want you, I want you to fuck me  _ please _ .”

Alba snaps his hips forward and shudders. There’s a dark spot on the front of his skirt where the precum’s soaking in. He feels Ros’s hand twitch on his hip, try to pull him closer, and Alba somehow still has the wherewithal to pull back.

Somewhere in his brain he thinks something about if Ros won’t touch him then Ros won’t get off. Ros gives him a frustrated growl but stops trying to pull him in closer, just helps him rock and grind against his thigh.

“Fuck, f-fuck.” Alba’s hips hurt, his thighs are shaking. But he’s so hard and it feels so good he can’t hold himself back, angling his hips so he’s rubbing better against Ros. “Fuck, I’m gonna come Ros-- Ros please, please--!”

The only thing he gets is Ros’s fingers digging into the soft flesh of his ass and a hard tug on his hair. Ros swallows his moans as Alba’s hips stutter in their rhythm. The skirt catches most of it, but cum drips and spills down Ros’s thigh, soaking into his pants.

Alba’s limp against him, shivering a little every few seconds as the residual pleasure fades. Ros kisses him for another moment, enjoying how soft and pliant Alba gets after he comes.

“Gee, Alba,” Ros murmurs, his voice thick with arousal. Alba hums against his throat, tucking his head down to get more comfortable. Ros squeezes Alba’s ass and gets a whine in response, the tune changing. “Ruining that nice skirt I got for you. What a shame.” 

Alba tenses slightly, like he’s about to complain that Ros  _ wanted  _ him to in the first place. Ros rolls his own hips, makes it clear the punishment he has in mind for Alba, and Alba doesn’t say a word. 

“What a shame.”


End file.
